


A Whisper of Desire

by mresundance



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Hannibal, Changing Tenses, M/M, Meta, Rimming, Sexual Fantasy, Top Will, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all Will’s fantasies, this was, in his estimation, the most bizarre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whisper of Desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WarpedChyld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarpedChyld/gifts).



> Once upon a time warpedchyld on Tumblr made a post about Will never being unable to lick Hannibal's butthole. This is where my brain went with that. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Of all Will’s fantasies, this was, in his estimation, the most bizarre.

His fantasies, like his sexual repertoire, were vast: whipping and canning Hannibal; making a naked Hannibal crawl on his hands and knees, while fetching him books and flasks of whiskey with his teeth; leaving bright and angry rings all over Hannibal’s back and ass from fire-cupping. Sometimes he thought of clamping Hannibal’s nipples and hanging him from them, suspended, until he came from the pain alone. Will and Hannibal had never consented to scat, but bloodplay and watersports were old hat by now, and had been in Will’s fantasies a fair few times. He’d stroked himself off when he remembered fisting Hannibal the first time: the way Hannibal’s lips had parted in deep, breathy little moans, his whole body contracting and writhing with the tension of wanting to move but knowing he shouldn’t. Good old fashioned vanilla sex had its virtues as well; there was nothing quite like the fantasy (more often than not reality) of waking up with Hannibal sucking Will’s shaft slowly to hardness.

None of these things, either in reality or fantasy, were actually that bizarre. Mostly it was the idea, more than the reality, which rendered something bizarre, and therefore, more erotic. It could be conjured up, pristine and clean in that no sheets would be dirtied, lube used, or bodies made sweaty, sticky, and sore. It could be accessed at any time during the day: as Will drove to work, when he was teaching or sitting through a particularly ghastly meeting, when Will ate dinner with Hannibal in the evenings. Reality had nothing to do with it; his imagination allowed him to concoct all kinds of scenarios. No-one else would be privy to those fantasies, and he could imagine all manner of things as being bizarre, or even filthy and degrading. And these juxtapositions were a potent aphrodisiac.

His favorite was imaging Hannibal was a virgin in one particular way. In Will’s fantasy, while Hannibal had proven more than adequate to a veritable bevy of lovers -- women, men, and any other configuration besides -- in this singular activity he remained untouched.

So, in the fantasy, when Will suggests the idea to Hannibal, Hannibal seems not to care. Then he becomes actively repellant, diverting the conversation each time Will brings it up. Later, after Will has spanked him, Hannibal will wonder. He will begin to ponder what it would feel like. What would it be like for Will to claim him in possibly the most intimate way imaginable?

The next day Will which catch Hannibal fingering himself. He’s thinking of Will, and that one act Will suggested. Will knows it by the simple fact Hannibal won’t meet his gaze as he cleans up.

Finally, after some weeks of Will coaxing, of petting and stroking and comforting and plying and spoiling him in every way possible, Hannibal decides that he wants to try it with Will. On the night of, he is coy, almost embarrassed to be naked and so aroused as Will turns him on his stomach.

At first the kisses are light all across Hannibal’s shoulders and down his spine. Then, wet, quick darts of tongue as Will moves lower. Kisses all over Hannibal’s ass, and small nips that Will soothes with his firm palms. Will spends so much time kissing and licking Hannibal, moving between his thighs to nuzzle and suck his balls, and then back up again, that Hannibal allows himself to relax completely, trustingly. It is still a shock when Will gently spreads Hannibal’s cheeks. And a shock as Will brushes lube-glossed fingers over Hannibal’s taut little hole.

Hannibal holds his breath. Will’s lips and tongue do not follow his fingers. He lets Hannibal wait, and continues kissing and licking and sucking other areas, before returning. Will’s stubble scratches against Hannibal as he presses his face nearer, as his tongue flicks over that hole, back and forth, back forth. Easy and steady. Hannibal likes the feeling, spreading his legs wider. And then, when Will’s tongue slides inside him -- the tip and nothing more -- and Hannibal moans.

Will chuckles, and the vibrato almost makes Hannibal come right then and there.

Will stops teasing; he takes. He spreads Hannibal as far as he can and begins fucking Hannibal with his tongue. The thrusts are deep, and fast. Will is inside him, pushing his tongue where no-one else has, and it’s not long at all before Hannibal comes.

“Such a good boy,” Will hums, before sliding his cock into Hannibal and using him like the little fucktoy he was, until he has Will’s spit and cum inside him.

Hannibal thinks, distantly, that he should get up and clean himself. He isn’t altogether sure what he should feel, or how he should respond. He does feel naughty, filthy, and a little taken aback by the whole affair. And he knows that he loved it.

Will takes Hannibal by the thighs and greedily licks him clean, drawing another, shallower orgasm out of him, which makes Hannibal forget any doubts.

Without actual doubt, this was Will’s fantasy about rimming Hannibal. He enjoyed it immensely: imaging how he would make Hannibal feel awkward, open, and vulnerable the way only a virgin could feel. And he was keenly aware that the Hannibal in his fantasy was precisely that: a fantasy. His Hannibal, the real Hannibal, would never react in such a way, nor have gone un-rimmed for so long. Even if Will hadn’t enthusiastically eaten Hannibal out many times, and vice versa, it would not be in Hannibal’s nature to find rimming anything but luxurious.

Hence why it was a very bizarre fantasy.

The first time Will did tell Hannibal about this fantasy, Hannibal was polite. He listened, quietly, and waited for Will to finish before asking: “Would you like to play this out together, then?”

Will had contemplated it -- absent god knows he had -- many times. He’d had this very conversation with an imaginary Hannibal, many times. But there was something about the allure of the fantasy: the way it tasted like sweet, smooth port, and just a whisper of desire and sex.

“Not tonight,” Will answered.


End file.
